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One of the hottest evenings of the year, the prospect of an emotionally-draining night at the theatre was not altogether a water-watering one. But the laugh-out-loud comedy, fine acting and cool, Zen-like set of director Steven Pimlott's The Seagull was a breath of frash air.
Chekhov may ofter be thought of as overwrought and laden with intellectually-taxing monologues, but this new version by Phyllis Nagy of his play about the grand themes of love and art, which revolutionised the theatre in its time, brought out the wit and was hugely entertaining.
There was still the emotion and hand-wringing, of course, particularly from the charmingly dishevelled Ed Stoppard, who lurched from Byroin-like torment to quiet despair as struggling writer Konstantin.
And Alexandra Moen's transformation from radiant and optimistic would-be starlet Nina to a bruised and confused young woman having to face life's realities was suitably shocking.
But the humour, and great interaction between the characters, balanced this superbly.
Alison Chitty's modernist set, with the lake almost like a Japanese water feature underneath the stage and the seagull hung overhead in a perspex box, Damien Hirst-like, was refreshing too and an antidote to a world of Russian icons and dusty old books.
Sheila Gish's portayal of acterss Arkadina was awe-inspiring on two levels. This was a big, brash, go-for-it performance with Gish captivating the audience with her sheer presence, comic timing and some gorgeous gowns. And the fact that, just two months ago, she underwent surgery to remove her right eye when cancer was diagnosed, makes her performance all the more extraordinary with the eyepatch she now wears lending her an air of decandence and sexiness.
Other notable performances come from Desmond Barrit as Sorin, the old man with a twinkle in his eye, and Gish's daughter Kay Curram showing her pedigree as the young madam of the withering put down Masha.
